


After The War (What Do We Really Have)

by neverthelessthesun



Series: Steve and Tony Make a Porno (Unrelated Stony Fics) [12]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Blink-and-You-Miss-It Coulson/Clint/Nat, Bottom Tony Stark, Bruises, Canon-Typical Violence, Crying, Deepthroating, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Established Relationship, Hugs, Implied/Referenced Torture, Light Bondage, M/M, Manhandling, Multiple Orgasms, Naked Male Clothed Male, Nervousness, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Possessive Steve Rogers, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Ripping Clothing, Rough Sex, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Top Steve Rogers, Verbal Bondage, We're Alive Sex, and he gets one, dont read if ur a germaphobe, in that steve doesn't clean up before they do the nasty, mentioned:dismemberment, mentioned:torture, probably unsafe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 14:37:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16494512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverthelessthesun/pseuds/neverthelessthesun
Summary: Steve comes home from a SHIELD mission that went pear-shaped. Tony helps him through it.





	After The War (What Do We Really Have)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FestiveFerret](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FestiveFerret/gifts), [willidothefandango (nagth)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagth/gifts).



> Hello again, and thanks for clicking!
> 
> I asked the stony discord folks what they wanted me to write, and festiveferret, willidothefandango, and Jade2001 asked for desperate, needy, rough wall sex, with overstimulated Tony and clothes on. I think I managed to hit all of those. 
> 
> There are elements of rough sex and mentions of torture. If that stuff bothers you, heed the tags and check the end notes for detailed (spoilery) warnings. 
> 
> Unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Tony was sitting against the arm of the sofa in the penthouse living room, because he couldn’t bring himself to relax, but he refused on principle to pace. The silence of the apartment around him seemed oppressive. He was nervous, tapping his foot and fingers out of sync, taking deep breaths every few minutes just to keep his cool. Any moment, he could hear something at any moment. He couldn’t let himself assume the worst.

His phone rang, and he scrambled for it. “Yes?”

“They’re alright,” Agent Coulson promised from the other end of the line. “No injuries.”

Tony released all the air from his lungs in a harsh sigh. “ETA?”

“Give our Captain thirty minutes or so. I have a feeling he’ll skip the debrief tonight. Romanov and Barton will be staying on base.” Tony appreciated that about Coulson. He didn’t like letting his people out of sight either. 

After he hung up, he expected the nervous energy that had been plaguing him since the first phone call, hours ago now, to fade. But knowing that Steve had been MIA on a mission, even for only half a day, had him on edge and jittery. 

Sooner than he would have thought, JARVIS spoke up. “Sir, Captain Rogers has just parked his motorcycle in the garage. He will be up presently.”

Tony shook himself and stood up, walking around in a charade of tidying their already spotless apartment. Finally, finally, he heard the elevator doors open, and he turned to greet his lover. 

Steve was a mess–he was still in uniform, gloves hanging from one hand, shield on his back. His hair was windswept, like he’d torn through the New York streets without a helmet again. He was smudged with dirt and mud, so much so that Tony found it difficult to look him over for bruises or cuts. His eyes were hollow, wild, like he’d seen things he wanted to forget. Tony’s heart broke that it was a familiar expression. 

Before he could take in any more detail, or even say hello, Steve had dropped the shield carelessly on the hardwood floor and, in two long strides, was pressed up to Tony’s side. He wrapped both his arms around Tony’s middle, shoving his nose into his hair. 

“Tony,” he growled, breathing in deeply. Tony followed his actions, wrapping Steve up in a hug and breathing in the smell of burning rubber and battle. 

“Hey, Steve,” Tony breathed, and for the first time since that morning, it felt like he was getting a full breath of air, even with Steve wrapped tightly around him. 

Steve was still pressed against Tony, covering him as efficiently as he knew how, his face turned into Tony’s hair. He walked them resolutely backwards until Tony’s back hit the living room wall. Gratefully Steve pinned him there safe, and pulled back just enough to look him over meticulously. 

“I’m okay, Steve,” Tony promised, running soothing hands up and down Steve’s flanks. “I was here, safe, the whole time.”

“They said–” Steve cut off. He grabbed at Tony’s hands, lifting them up to inspect them in the light. “They said they would cut off your fingers.”

“They didn’t have me. Steve, baby, no one had me. No one has me but you.”

This seemed to settle the soldier only slightly, and he did not cease his catalogue of Tony. He knelt down to run careful hands over Tony’s jeans, tracing the shape of his knees until satisfied they were unbroken and strong. He lifted the hem of his shirt, ran his warm, dry palms across Tony’s unmarred stomach as if to reassure himself. He stood again and pressed Tony into the wall, scanning his face for any signs of pain. When there was none, he manhandled Tony’s arms around so he could see that there were no bruises or wounds. 

Tony let him do all this with an even calm. He knew sometimes the mission left such a horrible aftertaste in Steve’s mouth that he had to reassure himself that the ones he cared about were unhurt. This one must have been bad, judging by the still panicked look in his eye and the way his hands still searched frantically across Tony’s body, even though he’d checked everything. 

“Tony,” he begged, still sounding shaky as all hell. He stopped there, unsure what he needed. What he was begging for. 

But Tony knew, when Steve got like this, how to help him. 

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” he promised, letting Steve clutch at his wrists. “It’s okay, take what you need. Come on, Steve. Fuck me.”

Steve’s ashen, dirty face turned down to look at him, blinking uncertainly. Tony met his gaze, relaxing into his lover’s hold, into what was going to happen. 

Usually, if Tony asked Steve to just take what he wanted in bed and use him for his own pleasure, Steve would completely refuse. He didn't like hurting Tony, even if Tony wanted to be hurt. But, like this, so raw and helpless, he was defenseless against his desire to claim Tony fully, in the way they both craved. 

Steve moved fast once his mind was made up. He slammed Tony’s captured wrists into the wall above his head with one hand, grabbing onto the back of his neck with the other and pulling him into a harsh kiss. Their mouths clashed, then Steve overpowered Tony as he submitted, thrusting his tongue deep. Tony whimpered and flexed his arms, reveling in being unable to move, trapped where Steve wanted him. 

The kiss was punishing, Steve pouring all his pent up frustration and terror over the last mission into this connection. He bit at Tony’s lip, almost hard enough to draw blood, then broke the kiss to let Tony gasp desperately for air while he mouthed at the neckline of his shirt. His hips bore down onto Tony’s groin, thrusting erratically while his cock hardened in the uniform. 

Tony arched into the bruising kisses to his throat, shivering with each nip of sharp teeth. Steve continued his path down until the cotton button-down got in the way. He paused to rip it away, buttons scattering across the floor in all directions. 

“That’s so hot,” Tony couldn’t help murmuring. Steve seemed to notice he was still able to talk, and plundered his mouth again, his hand working furiously to pull Tony’s undershirt up. Finally he gave up and let his wrists go just long enough to drag the clothing off his arms and over his head, then he threw it aside and cought Tony’s wrists against the wall once more. 

“Stay,” he growled low in Tony’s ear, biting hard at the shell of it. Then he lowered both his hands to grab possessively at his hips, hard enough to leave the fingerprint bruises Tony loved. The thought of seeing those bruises in the morning had Tony light-headed and grinding back into Steve’s building rhythm. He kept his wrists crossed above him. 

“Lube,” Tony reminded as Steve tore at the button of his jeans. Steve yanked the offending fabric off, boxers and all, and knelt to help Tony’s feet out of them. He leaned forward and pinned Tony’s hips to the wall with one arm, and used his other had to guide Tony’s hardening cock between his lips and down his throat. 

“Guh!” 

Steve was an excellent deepthroater. He had an almost non-existent gag reflex and a tongue technique that could send someone to their grave. He utilized both these things to attempt to suck Tony’s brain out his dick, and mostly succeeded. 

Tony, lost in a wave of sensation, unable to move away from or into Steve’s mouth, was suddenly very close to blowing his load. His breath hitched, and just as he thought he’d managed to hold himself back, a cool wet fingertip pressed behind his balls, pushing hard into his perineum.

Tony came shouting down Steve’s throat. It seemed to last an eternity. Finally, as his vision cleared and he could feel something besides overwhelming pleasure, he felt that Steve had managed to slip a lubed finger fully into his hole and was now pumping it into him firmly. 

“Steve,” he whined, shuddering as the man continued to lick at his softened, overstimulated cock. “Steve, baby, too much.”

Steve pulled off, only to nuzzle into his groin, smelling Tony’s musk there. “Tony,” he intoned. “I need it. I need you. Let me take what I need.”

Tony shuddered again as the tip of Steve’s velvet pink tongue came out and tasted his salty skin. “Alright, big guy,” he acquiesced. “T-take what you need.”

Steve latched on again immediately, swirling Tony’s soft cock head with his tongue until he was crying real tears from the overstimulation. His legs shook, and he was sure the only thing keeping him from bucking and collapsing was Steve’s strong forearm pressed into his hips. It was so lovely, and so painful, and horrible and beautiful all at once. Tony felt he was exploding in slow motion as Steve relentlessly teased and swallowed around his soft wet penis. 

Steve kept this up until Tony was wracked with shakes, trying desperately to get away from the feeling of too-much-too-hot-friction. He slipped in a second finger to his hole, pressing until it stretched wide around the two digits and he could unerringly stroke against Tony’s prostate. Bizarrely, almost as if from a dream state, Tony realized he was beginning to get hard again. He wailed in pain, for it really was too soon, but Steve hummed euphorically and began sucking harder, coaxing Tony back to full hardness in record time. His fingers pumped inside, scissoring and stroking Tony’s prostate. 

“Steve,” Tony moaned, drawn out. He was wrecked, still crying, sweaty and spent, but hard and wanting. He wanted Steve to fuck him. He wanted Steve to pin him to the wall and use all his strength, no holds barred. He was desperate for it. 

A few more licks and Steve finally pulled off Tony’s cock. He ducked down to look at where his fingers were disappearing into Tony, gaze hungry and bright. Then, keeping Tony pinned by his hip, he stood and pressed his body against Tony’s, trapping him naked against the wall. Steve’s uniform was still on him, and dirty, and in places where they touched, he left traces of dirt on Tony’s naked skin. 

“Mine,” Steve snarled fiercely. 

“Yours.”

Tony’s voice cracked on the word, as Steve pushed deeper inside him than before. Two fingers became three on the next thrust, causing Tony to cry out at the glorious stretch. 

“I’m ready,” he called, wrists trembling as he held them up. “I’m ready, Steve–”

Steve’s fingers withdrew. Tony saw him reach for his fly and take out his hard cock, rosy and shocking against the deep blue of the uniform. This checked so many of teen Tony’s fantasy boxes, he could hardly believe it–rough sex with a blond in a Captain America suit. Naked, while Steve was clothed. Biting pleasure so intense he cried. 

But what was perfect about this moment wasn’t that it was with Captain America, he thought as Steve lined up. It was because it was with Steve, because he was giving Steve something unmeasurable, and Steve was giving something of himself in return. It was that they could trust each other, no one else, with this, with these moments where one or both of them felt less than human. They could bring each other back from that brink.

Steve plunged into him in one deep thrust, urging Tony’s legs around his middle. Tony screamed his pleasure, hearing it echo across the room. His vision whited out just slightly around the edges, and though he’d come only minutes ago, he felt like he’d narrowly avoided coming again. 

Steve only growled something unintelligible against the skin of Tony’s neck, then bit there hard enough to leave teeth imprints. On hand gripped Tony’s still-raised wrists, and the other held firm at his hip, holding him steady as he fucked him hard. He smashed his lips against Tony’s once more, a parody of kiss, both of them too far gone to orchestrate a real one. 

Steve fucked up into him like he was a dying man in search of water. He pressed into Tony until his weight surrounded him, keeping him locked against the wall where only Steve could touch him. They rocked together, fast and rough, until Tony was exhaling in a high whine with every thrust and Steve’s cock scraped across his spot.

“Steve,” he managed weakly, but there was no indication that Steve heard him. The next moment, the blood roaring in his ears was so loud, he couldn’t hear himself, and he came on Steve’s cock, his legs tightening around Steve’s core uselessly. 

Steve didn’t stop thrusting, chasing his own peak, but this time, the bursts of pleasure from Steve’s relentless fucking felt muted enough that the didn’t overpower Tony. He floated dazedly, feeling secure and used in the most perfect way, while Steve held him right where he wanted and fucked him hard. This, this was what Tony was wanting. What they’d both been needing. 

After a few more moments, Steve gave one last herculean thrust, then buried himself to the hilt inside Tony’s now abused hole. He groaned, clutching Tony impossibly closer as he spent himself. Tony found the energy to moan in appreciation. 

They slumped against one another, then Steve lowered them carefully down the wall, slipping out of Tony as he went. Tony began immediately to leak Steve’s copious come onto the floor, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“Just like that, Steve,” he whispered. He realized his voice was raw from screaming. “S’ perfect.”

“Tony,” Steve whispered back, bowing low to bury his face in Tony’s stomach. He sucked in his next breath through his teeth. “You’re safe. You’re alright.”

“I’m alright,” Tony promised, threading his now-free hands through Steve’s hair. “We’re alright, love, you made it home.”

Steve sobbed inaudibly, grasping blindly for Tony’s waist, and relaxed into him for the first time since coming home.

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Steve comes home and says someone threatened to cut Tony's fingers off while he was on mission. They have consensual rough sex, including biting, bruising, and possessive language. Tony cries from overstimulation. 
> 
> I got back on [Tumblr](https://nvrthlessthsun.tumblr.com/) because I have no impulse control so follow me or w/e.
> 
> Please leave a comment, I love comments! A keysmash or a heart makes my day!


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